


New Level

by miscfics (twowritehands)



Series: Time Trap [3]
Category: Time Trap - Fandom
Genre: College, M/M, Mutual Pining, Porn with Feelings, Teacher-Student Relationship
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2021-02-17
Updated: 2021-02-17
Packaged: 2021-03-12 20:28:25
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,170
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/29515329
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/twowritehands/pseuds/miscfics
Summary: Taylor works late one night grading papers with his favorite college professor, and they take their relationship to a new level.A prequel to parts 1&2 of my series, so not necessary to read parts 1&2 first :-)
Relationships: Taylor/Hopper
Series: Time Trap [3]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/2029750
Comments: 1





	New Level

**Author's Note:**

> prequel to the movie

When Taylor first met Professor Hopper, they were at a dig site in Turkey. Hopper was sweaty and dirty and his muscled arms were bare and darkening in the sun. He smiled and made a witty and super cool joke and his cargo pants fit him _just right_.

Taylor thought, _aw hell yeah_. He'd always had a thing for older men. And when Hopper smiled at him, his mind went right into the gutter, his body surging with desire.

All because of that smile, and what was behind it. Desire, mirroring his own. From that smile, Taylor knew he had Hopper's attention and was eager to do something with it. To take that leap and fly... Or fall... 

It was not often that Taylor's attraction to older men was ever returned, that his interest in them ever went anywhere. The vast majority of them were straight and married. But that smile and the way Hopper's eyes darted up and down Taylor's body when they were introduced, said this wasn't the case.

It only got more certain. Hopper's ring finger was bare. He made jokes about being a bisexual bachelor and his eyes tended to linger on Taylor.

That semester digging in Turkey was the most fun Taylor ever had. And it was all because of Hopper, who made history exciting and who featured in Taylor's brand new and so much more satisfying highlight reel. It didn't matter that Taylor was 25 and Hopper was 50. The man was electric. Fucking magnetic, even. Taylor wanted him. Bad.

This summer was about the time that Taylor started to tell people that majoring in Archeology was the best decision he ever made; that he knew it in his bones. (Excuse the pun.)

It was apparent to both of them right away that the attraction was mutual.

The cute part was how hard the professor tried to "do the right thing". Hopper never made the first move, even with Taylor teasing whenever he could. Hopper looked and smiled but never touched....

They even had outright conversations about it, and the university's fraternization rules; the whole "I'm literally twice your age" spiel. Taylor respected Hopper's boundaries, but he also silently lamented them. And daydreamed of an alternate reality where Hopper didn't refuse to break the rules, where he was happy to risk his job or Taylor's chance at an education. 

For the first year, all Hopper was to Taylor was an unreachable fantasy... Until Taylor became Hopper's TA. After that, it took only a matter of days.

There was a huge stack of papers that needed grading and Hopper was super busy so Taylor took the whole stack home. He intended to have them done by Monday, as a little surprise for his overworked professor.

But Hopper called later, "Hey where are those papers that were trying to collapse my desk earlier?"

"I have them."

"You can't grade them all yourself."

"Sure I can. You've got enough on your plate."

"So do you. Let's grade them together. Why don't you bring them over to my place. I'll text the address."

Taylor had a quick shower and changed his shirt twice and then drove to the house of his number one crush, his living wet dream.

Hopper opened the door with a smile, and Taylor got butterflies like this was a date. They acted casual as Taylor stepped into Hopper's home. But the sexual tension was thick as butter. Taylor had never been at Hopper's place before. It was exactly what he imagined. And it smelled like him. Holy fuck. 

It could happen, Taylor kept thinking. Here in the privacy of his home, with a weekend ahead of them.... It could happen.

He tried not to get hard as Hopper offered him a beer, and they settled in to work. Boss, the dog, greeted him happily and then insisted on laying on Taylor's feet.

They graded in companionable silence, occasionally making idle conversation, noticing every stolen look and pretending they didn't, purposefully grazing arms or hands and acting like it didn't mean everything, even "accidentally" nudging each other's feet. They made their way through one, then two, then three bottles of beer.

Taylor went to the fridge and grabbed a forth. He had a great buzz going, and he didn't want to ruin it on paperwork. He leaned against the fridge in what he imagined was a casual, sexy pose. He was hard, and letting himself get harder, hard enough to notice through his jeans.

The short hallway to the bedroom was between him and the couch. He lingered right there until Hopper finally looked up from the work. His eyes did the usual once over Taylor's body, and when he saw the bulge he audibly lost his breath. 

Taylor pretended to stretch, because he knew his shirt always rode up when he did that. The way Hopper's eyes zeroed in on the flash of abs might as well have been a kiss to the belly button. Taylor _felt_ it. 

"You know I'm too drunk to drive home," he said. 

"That's fine. You can sleep on the couch."

Taylor didn't break eye contact. "I'm too drunk to sleep."

Hopper considered him deeply for a moment--Taylor didn't breathe. This was it; the final judgement. Either Hopper wanted him enough to bend a rule, or he was professional enough to fire Taylor and never see him again. 

Jesus, there was so much riding on this. Was this a huge mistake?

Hopper stood up. Taylor inhaled.

Rather than speak, Hopper moved toward him. Taylor met him halfway. Hopper took the beer from his hand, sipped it and then threw it across the kitchen into the sink. It definitely shattered but Hopper didn't even blink.

Taylor kissed him. It was an instinct to act quickly that he wasn't super used to following, so it basically felt like jumping out of his body.

Hopper caged him with one arm and caressed his face as he deepened the kiss. Taylor moaned happily.

The kiss broke. Their bodies were pressed together. He could feel Hopper's erection, his thumping heartbeat. 

"Think it through," Hopper said gravelly. Was he talking to Taylor or himself?

"I think about it all the time," Taylor promised.

Hopper bit his lower lip. His hardest thinking face.

Taylor smiled up at him. "Worst case scenario you stop being my favorite teacher. I finish my degree at a different school. The world doesn't stop spinning."

He literally saw the conflict settle in Hopper's eyes, replaced by a calm decision. 

The next thing Taylor knew, he was up against the fridge with a tongue down his throat, hands up his shirt, his legs wrapped tightly around Hopper, who growled as pent up desire let loose. 

_Aw hell yeah._

They stumbled into the bedroom. The deeper private space made Taylor's skin tighten. It was no different from his own bedroom; Hopper had dirty clothes on the floor, a rock band poster on the wall. Taylor smirked.

Age really was just a number. 

The t-shirt went over Taylor's head. He landed flat on his back and Hopper licked his nipples as he opened Taylor's fly.

He wriggled free of the jeans, and Hopper's mouth trailed down his torso. Taylor levered up on his elbows to take in the unbelievable sight of Hopper actually teasing him through his best pair of sexy briefs. 

He could almost feel the beard through the fabric. He trembled and folded the elastic down. Air brushed his pubes. Hopper kissed the barely visible base of Taylor's cock. 

His entire body convulsed at the intimate scratch of beard. Helpless sounds of pleasure kept breaking past Taylor's lips. He distantly hoped he didn't sound too desperate or anything but, fuck. He kind of was. 

And just because Hopper was drunk enough to give in tonight did not mean he would ever allow this to happen again. Taylor needed to make the best of it. 

So he just let go. 

Slutty Taylor had the wheel now. And that horny bastard had no shame. He surged and pinned Hopper to the bed, earning the nickname "you wild cat you."

Taylor straddled him and dragged his hands over his hairy torso. His nipples were super sensitive. Taylor played with them like buttons on a game controller until Hopper was growling filthy promises.

"Where are the condoms and lube?"

"Bathroom," Hopper rasped.

Taylor sprang off the bed, found the supplies in the medicine cabinet, and hurried back. Hopper was exactly where he left him, hands pressed against his eyes like... a lost man praying. 

Taylor gulped. Was _he_ the one taking advantage somehow? Was that even possible? He dropped the condom box onto the side table as loudly as he could. Hopper startled, and when he saw Taylor, his lips smacked.

Taylor looked down at his body, self conscious. Hopper reached for him, closing a hand on the back of his knee.

"You're a fucking dream," Hopper drawled. He sounded way drunker now. "Get that ass over here."

Taylor climbed back over him. Hopper sat up and embraced him again for more kisses. He prepped Taylor like that, chest to chest, kissing or nuzzling. Taylor took the chance to leave a hickey on Hopper's neck. Proof for tomorrow that this really happened.

Proof that, even if just for tonight, Hopper was _his_.

Stretched open, slick, and breathless, Taylor guided the swollen hot head of Hopper's cock to his hole and sank onto it. One long slide with a longer moan. 

"Fuck," Hopper kept saying. Taylor laughed and started moving.

He gave it his all. Every trick he knew, every last bit of his strength funneled toward making this the best orgasm of his life. And Hopper's life, too. He felt the end coming. Hopper purred,

"Close baby? Cmon. Cum for me."

"Oh gaaaahhd." Taylor broke, his cock spitting jizz all over the place. He bounced off Hopper's cock, landed face first in the sheets, still coming. 

He felt Hopper roll over him, breath warm on his neck. "Taylor, you're so fucking incredible."

Taylor hummed, pleased. He lifted his head to see any evidence of how hard Hopper had cum, but Hopper manhandled him onto his hands and knees.

"Is this okay?" he asked before easing himself back into Taylor. The oversensitivity made him howl, but Hopper was gentle and stopped moving once he was docked. 

He was still Rock. Hard. 

"Oh god," mortification slammed into Taylor, "you haven't cum yet?"

A chuckle, "Nope."

"Oh god I came in like two minutes."

"I know. It was awesome."

Burning red, Taylor was glad he could bury his face in a pillow. Here, he'd imagined he was rocking the man's world and it was just a fucking warm up. Rough hands ran up and down his spine. Taylor felt his cock hardening instead of softening. He fisted the sheets as it began to really dawn on him what was happening. 

Hopper was going to make him come twice in one hour.

He rested his forehead on the mattress, looking at his own happy cock and the way Hopper's bigger balls were pressed against his in the little cave of their thighs. His heart was pounding so hard he felt it in the back of his throat. He felt it in his asshole, stretched and twitching around Hopper's cock. 

Hopper was taking his time. Petting Taylor in surprising erogenous zones--like his ribs, and the soles of his feet--Breathing rough, uttering praise and making filthy promises again. 

Taylor rocked himself on the cock, greedy. Hopper steadied his hips and thrust, hard. Taylor had to quickly catch himself against the headboard, crying "fuck yeah!"

The whole bed started shaking with each powerful thrust. Taylor slobbered all over the sheets, biceps bulged as he braced himself.

The cock felt amazing in his ass. He could barely even feel the stretch anymore. Now it was just about the delicious slide against his prostate, such acute pleasure he was screaming. 

Actually screaming with every thrust. 

_This_ was rough sex. His entire sexual history paled into kiddie play. Kinkiness and boldness meant nothing compared to stamina. 

_Stamina_ made good sex.

Taylor felt like a blind man gifted with sight. He fisted himself faster, breath thundering in his ears. 

"Shit I'm going to cum," he warned.

Hopper started moaning, then groaning, and Taylor knew he was close too.

The eruption this time sucked Taylor's balls all the way up into his body. His eyes rolled into the back of his head. Behind him, he heard unshaped, deep, guttural sounds as the cock inside him began to pulse and pulse. 

Hopper thrusted through their orgasms until the over sensitivity was so much that Taylor squirmed away. He twisted onto his back. 

Hopper lay on him, pushing sweaty hair out of his eyes and locking mouths with him in what was unmistakably a _thank you so much_ kiss. Deep, wet, and lingering. 

"So, so," Taylor could barely speak, "so worth it."

Hopper chuckled. "Damn sure was."


End file.
